The Wizarding Trilogy :Alderian Heir
by Thewandyfulwriter
Summary: A boy is transported from his world, to the world of Harry Potter. He has no memories of his former life, and starts to get used to his new one, as a student of Hogwarts. What will he do, when his past comes back to haunt him?
1. Chapter one : A wizard? Maybe

**In case you're all wondering, this is my first Harry Potter fanfic. So, if there are grammar errors, and the things you see there don't exactly go with the Harry Potter Universe, please bear with me. This is a crossover with another book I'm working on. A fantasy book. I assure, this character isn't any Gary stu. He isn't even the main character of my book. Just a side character i would love to see in the Harry Potter Universe.****I really need some help here, guys. I'm trying to post a story in Fictionpress, but all i can access is the fanfiction website. If you could tell how i could access it, so i can post my Fantasy WIP, I'd be grateful.****So, enjoy.****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Season 1****_EPISODE ONE :A WIZARD? MAYBE_**

The sky was stormy grey, despite the obvious lack of clouds. A raven flew by, it's jet black feathers fluttering in the wind. The airless wind, or the windless air. Another joined it by it's side, and together, they descended. There would be free meals down there, where the two leg oddities were foolishly killing themselves with fancy flashes of lights of varying colours. Pathetic, the raven thought, to be killed by nothing but flashes of light. It showed the raven that two wings were certainly stronger than two legs , as the raven was positive that no flash of light could kill it. Damage it's eyes, yes, but kill it? Definitely no.

And yet, as the two ravens swooped down, a stray flash of golden light struck it's chest, and it's life promptly left it. It fell to it's death, and it's wiser partner glided on the wind currents and left it behind.

The black bundle of lifeless feathers, skin and bone plunged to the harvest of dead human bodies, with putrid stenches wafting around the crumbling area, destroyed to a point of no return. Below the falling raven, amidst the chaos, were the two figure heads of the current massacre. One, a raven haired teen, barely fourteen, wearing the silver and red armor of his people. The other, a long haired, blond, middle aged man, wearing a long, dark cloak that covered his features from the neck downwards.

The boy, an innocent caught up in a battle he never knew existed, the man, a personification of all of mankind's vices.

The raven fell, lower and lower, as flashes of light brought walls to the ground, and men to their knees. The boy, sweat glistening on his pallid flesh, held out a 13 inches long tapered stick. The stick was smooth, dark elvenwood, with a handle made of dragonbone and a core of thunderbird lightning string. Intricate runes were carved into the dragonbone handle. The tip of the wand glowed a warm golden light.

At the same time, the man held forth his gloved hand, and purple sparks flew. The raven fell.

They said the spell in unison, a blending of magic and wills that set off their powers. "Árás! "

Golden and purple beams of light, pulsating with power, lunged for each other. The moment the raven reached that height, in which he was at the same level with the beams, the beams collided, engulfing the bird in an orb that was birthed of the joining of the two energies.

Most peculiar, it was, that at that point in time, when the three souls, the boy, the man, and the raven, were joined through the beauty that was magic, the Alderian gods finally took notice. They were curiously watching as both beams fought for dominance, none surrendering, both oblivious to the link they had created through the raven. It was a magic long lost to the sands of time in Deoreisia, and the gods decided they didn't want it staining their precious world.

Through the ancient magic, they created a rip in space and time. They divided the soul of the raven between the two, forever linking them that way. The gods took sides, naming them the heirs of their pantheon. Then, finally, they left it for Secrin, the Alderian goddess of inevitability, and everything went into play.

The orb exploded, shrouding the two in magical dust. When the dust settled, they were gone. Gone to prove to their gods who among them, was worthy of being heir.

**_Harry Potter Universe, Britain, _****_Flaphorn Manor... _**

"Mom? Mom! Someone's sleeping on the couch! "came the excited voice of a ten year old.

Footsteps raged down the stone staircases that spiralled down to the ground floor. A woman and a man, both dressed in brilliant magenta robes, ran through a high archway, flanked by aureate buttresses. The father, a tall brunette haired man of thirty six, drew out his wand, applewood with dragon heartstring core. They entered into the main hall of the manor house, and found to their utmost shock, a young boy of no more than ten years of age lying limply on the largest sofa in the room. The boy's face was pallid and pale, and he was dressed in filthy rags. He had long, glossy black hair that flowed in waves to his collarbone, and a rather cute looking face, despite it's gaunt state.

Most strange of all, was the unusual looking wand held in the boy's grasp.

Sitting cross legged on the rug next to the sofa, was the nine year old scion of the Flaphorn family. Halmore Flaphorn.

The woman, Emilia Wartfield Flaphorn, turned to face her husband, who was slowly lowering the wand he'd raised in his haste to protect his son from whoever the intruder was.

"Honey? Who's this? "she asked in a murmur. Her husband, Vran Flaphorn, shrugged. "I-i have not the slightest idea."he answered. They slowly turned back to face the boy, and their hearts simultaneously melted.

"Let's find out if he has a parent. "Vran declared, keeping his wand inside the folds of his robe. Emilia nodded.

"Yes. That is best, for now "

**_A year later..._**

Geston Flaphorn, adopted son of the great Flaphorn family of wizarding and Muggle Britain alike, rolled and tangled in his bed sheets. They were drenched in sweat, and creased almost impossibly. His eyes were shut tight, wrinkling at the edges. He was having a nightmare.

It was stormy grey again. He was the last one standing, surrounded on all sides by corpses. He was breathing rapidly, his eyes leaking tears. Mist, fog, grey clouds. Dull stones.

He took a step, and promptly heard a sickening squelch. His stomach rolled and promptly turned to lead. He tentatively lifted his boots to look underneath it, and instantly became sick in his mouth. Next moment, the vomit vanished.

He heard a screech, and a raven dived full speed at him. Strange though, the raven had a shock of blond crown feathers. Guided by what he knew not, he drew his wand, and cast a skjöldur charm that did nothing to help him. The raven reached him anyway, and plucked out his eyes. Wand clattered to the ground, blood ran down pale cheeks, and a blond haired raven picked his guts. Another screech, and he came awake.

He sat up on his bed, sweat glistening on his face. He used his skinny hand to wipe his face, staring all the while at the subtle rays of dawning sunlight that streaked through the cracks in the curtains.

Sighing, he rolled off the bed and trekked across the large bedroom to open the curtains. Once opened, he went to stand before his mirror, and through it, saw the mark on his chest. A raven in flight, it's beak opened in a silent screech. According to his adoptive mother, he'd had it ever since he'd appeared in the main hall of the Flaphorn manor a year ago. It wasn't the only odd thing about him, unfortunately.

Unlike normal wizards, Geston; no matter how hard he tried, could not bring himself to pronounce a single Latin word. It was a known fact that a good deal of the wizarding spells were actually Latin words and phrases. He instead had a tendency to always speak his spells in different languages, mostly icelandic though. Even stranger, he'd never been taught most of the spells he used. They just, sort of popped up in his head.

Nevertheless, Geston was determined to excel at Hogwarts wizarding school for wizards and witches. Assuming he got invited, that is.

He took his bath and dressed in a small red tunic and black breeches. Before he left the bedroom, he shot a glance at the drawer next to his bed. Then he exited through the wooden double doors, and went downstairs for dinner. His brother was already there, fully dressed and reading a strange looking parchment with avid glee. He could easily guess what it was.

"Gotten your letter, i see" Geston said as he took a seat in the long dining room table. Halmore looked up excitedly from his letter, a wide grin on his face. "Yes. An owl brought yours too. Here it is" Halmore said, passing him an envelope that had the Hogwarts seal on it.

Geston grinned in relief, tearing the letter open in excitement. "I can't wait to get my own wand. Yours looks so cool, i wonder what my own would be like. Hey, where did you get yours... oh, you can't remember. sorry. But I'm sure it's someplace cool..." Halmore rambled on and on, while Geston watched him with an amused smile, noding where necessary.

When they showed their parents the letters, they all decided to visit Diagon alley that day. A trip to Gringotts for cash, and the very first place they visited was Ollivander's.

While Halmore looked for a wand that would choose him, and Vran took Geston's wand to the owner of the shop to be examined, Geston decided to take a walk around the shop, gasping in awe at the elegance of wands around him, and sneezing a few times due to dust and cobwebs. On his second trip around (Halmore was taking an awfully long time) Geston ran into someone.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, will you?" a tiny female voice squeaked. "Yea. Who are you anyway?" said another. Geston, still sputtering a childish apology, looked up and saw two girls his age. One had brunette hair, the other had long black hair. "Uh, I'm Geston. Geston Flaphorn "

The black haired one gaped. "You're a Flaphorn?" she whispered.

Geston was confused. "Uh, yea. That a problem? "He asked. The one with the wild brunette hair rolled her eyes. "No it isn't, doofus. I'm a Flaphorn too, from the American side of the family. Call me sophia "sophia said, holding her palms out for a handshake.

Vran had American relatives? How come they never told me? Geston thought.

He accepted her handshake.

"The name's Nalia. Nalia Elleswood." The black haired girl, Nalia, said this with slight trepidation. Geston simply shook her hand as well.

"So, have you gotten your wand?" Sophia asked. Geston nodded, careful not to let slip that he didn't even remember how he got it in the first place. Sophia jumped in excitement, and so did Nalia.

"Cool. What wood is it? "

"What core does it have? "

Nalia and Sophia said in unison. Geston shrugged, and answered both question; "You'll have to ask my parents. They're over there" he pointed at a corner in the shop his parents were in a deep discussion with the shop owner. Halmore had already chosen his wand and was heading towards them, practically skipping.

"Hey Geston! I've gotten my wand. It's a cherry wood, with a Fire Griffin tail hair core. Isn't it beautiful?" Halmore held up a polished, dark gold, 10 inches wand for them to see. Sophia and Nalia drooled over it. "You got a cherry! With Griffin tail hair core!?" Nalia squeaked. Geston rolled his eyes. Halmore nodded.

"That core is so rare. Like, really, really rare. The wood is sorta special too, but most especially for Japanese wizards, i think" Sophia said, reaching into her backpack Geston hadn't noticed before, and pulled out a glossy book that read :Wand Woods and Wand Cores ; The Beginners guide.

Halmore looked at his wand in a whole new light. "Whoa "

Geston had to admit, it was pretty neat too.

"I've got an Aspen wand, with phoenix feather core. It's with my parents though" Nalia said. Sophia nodded. "I've got an Elm wood wand. Dragon heartstring. Cool huh?" Sophia said, drawing out a wand box from her backpack and showing her friends the polished golden wand inside. It had a spiral designed handle, and it was 11 inches long.

"Pretty" Geston admitted. Sophia looked smug.

"Hey sweethearts. Time to go" Emilia called out to them. "Coming" The boys called back.

"Come on. Come meet our parents." Halmore piped. The others nodded, and they set off to join the elders. A boy wearing horn rimmed glasses, and a giant of a man, had entered the shop by then. Oblivious to everyone, a man wearing a heavy black cloak with a hood stood apart from all of them, standing in a corner near the entrance. The man drew out a wand, a 9 inches long Black thorn wood, with phoenix core. He pointed the wand at a smiling Geston, who had crossed the room halfway by then.

"**_Eldingar verkfall þig _**" he muttered, and a red bolt of lightning crackled towards it's soon to be victim, ready to take the life of the oblivious boy.


	2. Chapter two : Hogwarts

**_Alderian Heir_**

**_Season_** **_one_**

Episode two : Hogwarts

It was sudden and swift. Everyone had paused in terrified shock, as the lightning spasmed towards Geston through the air. The target himself was still oblivious, still trying to figure out the source of the noise. Everything was in slow motion.

Then, he appeared. With a blinding flash of light, a figure, moving with such speed that he appeared blurry, materialized before Geston and the other kids, swiftly raising his own wand, also barely seen.

The lightning struck the tip of the newcomer's wand, and in a rapid twirling motion, the man bent the lightning in a circle around him.

"Farðu til baka!" yelled the man. Instantly, the lightning rounded back on it's caster. By now, everyone was watching the show in startled bewilderment.

"Skjöldur. Eldur árás." The enemy cast a protective shield around him, then sent a wave of fire from the tip of his wand at the other. The flames barely missed the shelves.

Vran was the first to snap. He drew out his wand, and joined the battle. He yelled "Expelliarmus!" the same second the other wizard quenched the fire with a shout of "Eldur Deyfingarprófun."

The cloaked wizard was not to be underestimated, however, as he quickly countered Vran's spell with a yell of "Hrinda!"

Before any of them could fire more spells, the cloaked man quickly cast his way out of there. "Áfangastaður." and he was out of there, vanishing in a brilliant flash of light.

Everything went still for a while, nearly all of them holding their breaths. Most of all Geston, as images of a raven in flight flashed through his eyes at amazing speed. He shook his head, trying to dispel the images. It worked.

Vran turned to point his wand at the other wizard, finally taking a good look at him.

The man had jaw length black hair, some of which covered the left side of his sharp, handsome face in what he knew as a roguish muggle style. He wore a dark green velvet tunic, with muggle trousers and black sandals. His wand was an 11 inches Ebony wood, though he could not determine the core. It had a very peculiar handle, however, seeming to be made of a silvery material.

"Who are you?" Vran asked with barely concealed distrust.

"Yea. Mind tellin' us, boy?" said the bearded giant who had escorted the boy with the glasses into the shop. The man, strangely, was pointing an umbrella at the intruder.

Slowly, Emilia herself withdrew a wand from her holster. It was a wheat coloured Larch wood, 8 inches, with unicorn horn chip core. "Talk." she whispered, tiny lavender sparks coming off the tip of her wand.

The man gulped, then nodded. "My name is, Belrubin Wikbur." he said, then seemed to fidget with his wrist. It was too late, however, when they sensed the minute pulse of magic in the air.

"Stupefy!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Vran, Emilia and the giant yelled respectively, but it was all for naught, as the man known as Belrubin had vanished.

When the flashes of magic settled down, the adults turned to face the children, who were all gaping in awe.

"Best. Day. Ever." Halmore breathed. The others nodded dumbly in agreement. The adults sighed, smiling at the children's reactions. There was a few moments of strangely awkward, yet at the same time; comforting silence.

Putting away their wands, the Flaphorn parents righted themselves, then introduced themselves to the giant, whose name they learned was Hagrid.

The children went to the boy with the glasses, who was currently being measured by Ollivander's tape, while Ollivander searched for a wand for him.

"Hey. I'm Geston. Who're you?" Geston asked, pretending nothing had happened. The boy peered at them through his glasses. "Oh. Uh, I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you." the boy said with a small smile, deciding to play along. Halmore scrunched his nose. "You don't have to wear those things, you know." he said, pointing at the glasses. Nalia glanced at him. "Maybe he's got an eye problem or something." she suggested. Harry nodded. He'd begun trying different wands.

"That's not what i meant. Our family's got connection in the muggle world. They have eye doctors who invent these tiny little things you can put on your eyes so you can see well. Hey Geston, what's it called again?" Halmore said.

"I believe you mean contact lenses, don't you?" Sophia asked before he could reply. Halmore nodded. Harry smiled. "I know about those. I grew up in the muggle world. I sadly don't have enough Muggle money to get one though, and my guardians won't even mind me. You see, they're upset about me being a wizard and all." Harry supplied, smiling all through.

"Oh." Halmore looked ashamed. There was an awkward silence for a while, before Sophia broke it. "Hey Geston, did you notice that bad wizard aiming at you? I think he wanted you dead."

Geston's eyebrows shot up. "Me? But why?" he exclaimed, having not noticed the wizard's aim. They all shrugged. "But that other guy saved you though. Man, that fight was wicked!" Harry said excitedly. Suddenly, red sparks flew off the tip of the wand he'd been holding at that time. They all jumped.

"Holly, Phoenix feather core, 11 inches." Ollivander said with a peculiar expression on his face. They noticed it. "What's wrong?" Nalia asked. Ollivander shook his head, and went straight to packing. "Oh, nothing, nothing."

He'd already returned most of the wands inside their boxes, however, when Geston caught sight of a wand, and his breath hitched. He felt his chest tightening.

"Uh, Mr Ollivander, may i, take a look at that wand please?" he stuttered with a swallow, gesturing towards the wand. Mr Ollivander's eyes widened. He held up the wand. "This?". Geston nodded. Ollivander's eyes narrowed. "Heartwood, extremely rare, 12 inches, with Phoenix crown feather core."

The wand was beautiful. Pure white, with a golden handle shaped in the curvy tilt of a vase. Smooth and glossy too.

The moment Geston touched it, a fountain of vibrant golden sparks, almost like the ones he got when he touched his original wand, erupted from it's tip.

"Wow! Pretty." Nalia said, her eyes sparkling.

Ollivander was gobsmacked. "Impressive. First, your original wand, and now this. Fascinating." he said as he peered curiously. Geston frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, your chosen wands are very special, boy. Your first was made of Elvenwood, and no, not house elves, but wood created from trees spawned of the magic songs of the long lost High elves. The trees were supposed to be extinct thousands of years ago! It also has a thunderbird lightning string core, extremely rare, considering the fact that thunderbirds are nearly extinct. The handle also seems to be made of a black, fire resistant substance only known as dragonbone. This handle also happens to bear strange runes that hold immense power, but which i cannot decipher. And now this! A Heartwood, a wand specially attuned to charms any hexes, offensive and defensive alike. It also amplifies the owner's magic, but only if it needs to. Fascinating." Ollivander explained, staring at Geston with avid interest.

"Oh. Right." Geston said dumbly. When their parents returned, they showed them Geston's new wand, and introduced Sophia and Nalia. To say Vran was surprised that his sister's daughter had shown up would be a mild understatement.

A couple hours later, they'd met Sophia's and Nalia's parents, and were currently preparing to return home.

"See you at Hogwarts Express." Halmore said to Sophia, giving her a hug the second later. Geston, on the other hand, was a little less boisterous. "So, uh, till September?" he asked tentatively. Nalia smiled, then nodded. "Yea, till September. Though, try not to get killed before then, will you?." she teased, hinting back at the attack at the wand shop. Geston grinned. "I won't. They'll have to defeat me first." he boasted. Nalia sniggered.

"Yea right, as if you could even wield a wand properly, much less cast a spell with a passable aim. That would be the day." Nalia said. Geston smiled in determination. "I'll be the greatest wizard Hogwarts has ever seen. Just you wait."

Nalia rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Flaphorn. See yah!" she said, then left to join her parents.

When the goodbyes had been exchanged, the Flaphorn family apparated home, their son and adopted son quivering with excitement.

That night, alone in his room, Geston had nightmares again.

They were of Ravens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bearded man's eyes shot open, honey brown irises meeting with the chaotic grey and black that was the cavern's stone roof.

He sat up sharply, looking around at the cavern. He was lying on a platform of smooth balkenstone. He wore tattered, dust layered robes. Even his pallid skin was layered with dust.

He got off the make shift bed, and made his way towards a cluster of outcropping brown gems, surrounded by a circle of rock boulders.

He stared intently at the rocks for a full minute, before stepping away and walking across the cavern. "Accio wand." the man muttered, and instantly, a 14 inches long wand, made of a dark, smooth unknown wood and possessing an unknown core, appeared in his hands. The handle was rather spirally, like a twisting of three individual ropes, before melding into a slightly glowing sphere at the butt.

The man came to stand in front of a stone wall. "Bombarda." he muttered with a wave of his wand, and an explosion of magic blasted the wall to smithereens. Not a pebble touched the man.

He walked through the now smoking area, and entered into a cavern that was way darker than the one he'd left. Standing in the middle, was a man in a meditative position, wearing resplendent red, blue and green silk robes fit for a king. It was reinforced with light armor.

The old man hummed sharply, in a questioning tone.

In reply, the richly dressed man nodded sagely, the dull light that filtered through the opening reflecting his greasy hair. It was caramel brown. The old man nodded, muttering; "I see."

The old man turned to walk out of the cavern, but the voice of the richly dressed man stopped him.

"Do not do anything rash, Merlin."

The old man chuckled. "No promises."

A second later, he apparated out of there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geston's eyes stared out the window of the compartment, a twinge of sadness tightening his chest. He gingerly petted his pet cat, small fingers running through blue fur. The blue fur was his idea, as he'd troubled Vran so much that he had to give in to his request to turn the cat's fur blue.

Halmore was outside, giving a teary goodbye to his parents. Emilia was misty eyed, and Vran's jaw clenched in an effort to hold onto his emotions. Not that it did any good. Pride for his scion was practically pouring out of his eyes.

Sure, he'd received his own special goodbye, but nothing like this. He'd only known them for a year after all.

He felt rather than heard the compartment door slide open, for while his senses were a little dull from not paying attention to his surroundings, his body was as alert as ever. He turned to see Sophia, Nalia, Harry, a red haired boy and a bushy haired girl (both of which he knew nothing about) standing in the doorway.

He dug into his pocket, and retrieved a confectionery.

"Chocolate frog?" he offered, grinning. The others grinned at him, except the newcomers of course, and entered the compartment, dragging their luggage behind them.

A minute later, Halmore entered to find them all in an animated discussion.

Geston smiled discreetly, as the train started up.

With these guys, life at Hogwarts was definitely going to be interesting.


	3. Chapter three : The Sorting

**_Alderian Heir _**

**_Season one _**

Episode three : The Sorting

Geston had gaped in awe as the profile of his soon to be school appeared above the horizon. The castle was nothing short of magnificent.

Now, however, he was grumbling beneath his breath, frustrated at the suffocating space the waiting room provided.

His friends were behind him, trying to make more friends. Well, all except Sophia and the bushy haired girl that called herself Hermione Granger. Those too really seemed to hit it off with each other. It was probably because they were both intellectuals. Though, unlike Sophia, Hermione was an overbearing know it all. They certainly shared the bossy attitude, that was for sure.

As Geston continued to muse grumpily, he failed to notice a blond girl behind him, who was precariously trying to balance herself amidst the shovings of the students around her.

A boy stepped on Geston's toes, and he yelped, reeling back and inadvertently bumping into the blonde. While Geston managed to stay on his feet, the girl tumbled down in a tangle of limbs and robes. "Aah!"

Geston turned sharply to the girl, as the other students slowly began to make a circle around them. His eyes widened. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, i swear." he sputtered an apology, extending a free hand to her.

The girl sat up, her hair forming a curtain that shrouded her face. The girl glared ice daggers at him through the blond strands of her hair, her icy blue eyes burning with righteous anger. The girl huffed, then got up on her own with careful dignity. "I don't need your help." she sniffed, and promptly walked away to the other side of the room.

Geston stared after her for a while, after which he shrugged and walked away in the other direction.

Soon enough, the door swung open, and a tall, black-haired witch in lemon green robes stood at the entrance.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. " said the witch. "You can all call me Professor McGonagall. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into houses..."

Geston tuned her out the rest of the way, having been acquainted with most of what she said already. In the corner of his eyes, he could see Halmore doing the same. He smirked. You didn't stay with one of the most influential wizarding families in Britain without learning a few things.

The moment the professor left, whispers circulated.

"I heard you have to pass a test to be sorted. Some say it's going to hurt a lot." he heard a boy whispering behind him. Geston's eyebrows furrowed, and he felt nervousness well up in his chest. Now that was one thing he wasn't sure of. Most people always said it was some form of test, but they never specified. He glanced furtively to his adoptive brother, only to see an equal amount of nervousness plastered on his face. Geston swallowed.

"Come on children. The sorting is about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. When, no one knew.

They promptly formed a line and trailed steadily behind her, entering into a large hall lit by thousands of candles that floated in midair over four long tables filled with students.

The professor led them to the top of the hall, where the teachers sat along a long wooden table, and they stood facing the students, who dotted the hall like pale patches of dried milk sprayed on black parchment. Geston heard a gasp from beside him, and turned to see Harry staring up at the ceiling. He glanced up too, and was frankly not surprised to see it's baffling resemblance to the night sky. Velvety black, and dotted with tiny pin pricks of light that were supposed to be stars.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. Fascinating, isn't it?" Sophia supplied, gazing at the ceiling too. Harry nodded. Geston smiled, realizing that Harry obviously didn't see a lot of magic. Maybe he was a Muggle Born. He did say he lived with some guardians of some sort. Geston shrugged.

Geston looked down just in time to see Professor McGonagall silently place a small stool before the first years. He vaguely wondered if their test involved burning it to spitting embers. He'd certainly done that on accident once, when he'd been holding his wand not more than three months ago. He'd been trying pronounce the Latin spell for burning things, and while he'd marginally succeeded, his wand only spat out weak sparks from it's tip. In his frustration, he'd wildly pointed the wand at the piece of splintered wood he'd been trying to burn, and spat out a spell. Only, it wasn't Latin, but Icelandic, as he'd later learnt. Brenna, or something, he wasn't sure. But what he was definitely sure of, was the fact that he'd nearly burnt down the guest cottage that day.

McGonagall placed a patched, frayed and extremely dirty hat on the stool. Geston smirked. Oh, how it's coarse fabric would do wonders when used as fuel.

For a while, there was silence. Everyone's attention was on the hat. Then, to the surprise of the first years, the hat twitched and a tear on the tapered side opened up.

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

When the song ended, a thunderous applause resonated through the hall. McGonagall lifted a scroll from the teacher's table. "When your name has been called, you are expected to sit on the stool and place the hat on your head for the sorting." she said, then began reading out names.

"Appleworth. Zylene."

The girl nervously walked forward and sat on the stool. Seconds later, the hat yelled out; "HUFFLEPUFF!!"

That was how it went for a whole minute, before the names of Geston's friends started to appear. Geston himself was the first.

"Flaphorn. Geston."

When he sat on the stool, he was trembling with excitement. To his surprise however, the hat hadn't even touched his head for a second when it yelled; "GRYFFINDOR!!"

A round of applause went up from one of the tables, over which hung a banner of mostly red and gold. Two other tables clapped for him too, but the last one, the one over which a green and silver banner hung, didn't clap at all.

With his heart thumping in his chest, he descended down to his House table and took a seat somewhere isolated. He watched the rest of the Sorting from his seat.

Hermione and Sophia were sorted into Ravenclaw, and Harry and Ron came down to Gryffindor. Harry's situation was peculiar, since the hat had taken a long time to sort him. It was nothing compared to Halmore's time, as twenty minutes later, the hat had yet to sort him. Twenty-five minutes, the Hall had turned deathly silent. A minute later, the bizarre happened. Frost began to creep forward from beneath his chair, and the chair of a wizened, old teacher had began to melt into a puddle.

"What's going on?" Harry whispered.

"Something no one knows, duh. I would give anything to find out what the hell the sorting hat found in that bloke's head." said a black haired first year sitting not far from Harry. Geston tried to remember his name. Justin Nealwye, or something close. The others seemed to agree with him.

Geston, his face contorted in worry, also found himself agreeing.

By the time the frost had covered the entire platform, the hat yelled out; "GRYFFINDOR!!"

The hall erupted in an organized chaos of whoops, sighs, clapping and murmurs. Geston was immensely relieved.

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur. Nalia, to his great disappointment, was sorted into Hufflepuff. She seemed happy about it though. The headmaster had made a few announcements, and a new teacher, the one who's chair had almost melted to nothing, was introduced as Myrrdin Ealdor, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, whatever that was. The school anthem had been sung in the most uncoordinated manner possible, and the students had eaten to their fill. Ron and Halmore seemed to have had a preplanned competition, for their table manners heavily rivaled each other.

Before he knew it, he was entering the Gryffindor common room through a painting of a fat lady. Halmore announced a race to the first vacant dorm room they could find, but a student, Jon Frostwick, also first year, reminded him that they had to wait for their class schedules. The didn't have to wait long. Soon enough, McGonagall entered the common room, gave a speech he didn't bother listening to, and handed them their class schedules.

The boys still had their race, but Geston and Halmore ended up in the same dorm room, while Harry and Ron ended up in the one beside theirs. The Flaphorn brothers shared the room with Jon Frostwick, to their amusement, and a slightly fat, introvert boy that called himself Neville Longbottom.

"Oh no. Not again." the boy called Neville whined miserably. Geston's lazy cat opened one of it's eyes t

to stare at him. Jon walked towards him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's Trevor." Neville said. At Jon's blank stare he hastily supplied; "My pet toad. His name is Trevor. He's gone missing again. "

Halmore, having finished unpacking his luggage, joined the conversation. "So by again, you mean this has happened before?" Neville gave a miserable nod.

"Then he's going to come back to you. There's no need to worry." Geston said from where he sat on his bed, reading a textbook that read *HOGWARTS; A HISTORY *.

Halmore and Neville turned to face him. "How do you know?" Neville asked in a small voice. Geston looked up from his book, a smirk on his face; "Simple. It's happened before."

Jon smiled at that. "What he means to say is that you shouldn't worry. You'll find him later." Jon said. Halmore nodded in agreement. "Yea. What did you get a toad for anyway? Bird are way cooler." He said.

Geston, discreetly listening in as he read, had to agree with him. Claw, his cat, didn't seem to do much of anything, while Halmore's Golden Eagle, which was currently absent, was a sight to behold. He was jealous, and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

After a while spent reassuring Neville, Halmore proposed they gave the common room a visit. Geston and Jon kindly declined, each taking up different books to read, but Neville agreed.

Geston spent the remainder of the night trying to pronounce the spells he saw in the Beginner's Book of Spells, with highly appreciated help from Jon, who seemed a lot better at doing it.

The two boys chatted a little in between their readings, and neither knew when Halmore and Neville returned.

They had both dozed off, drooling with books as their as their choice of mattress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The place was wet, slippery, and musty. Water trickled down the walls in tiny drips, darkness thick and inky. Of course, there was silence too. No one ever forgot that.

Suddenly, but not surprisingly, a swirling vortex of primary colors appeared in the midst of the darkness. Four men, garbed in cloaks, as was expected of all who wished to conform to the set down rules of stereotypical bad guys, stepped out of it. The vortex closed.

A whisper of "Thgil." sounded at that same time as a whisper of "Lumos."

As expected, the tips of two wands, one springy and blue coloured, the other crooked and green colored, lit up with balls of light that was the exact same colors as the wands.

They walked towards a statue that stood at the far end of the musty room, their boots swishing against the slime as they tentatively picked their steps.

The statue stood a good five feet over them when they stood before it. It depicted a bald man with strange slitted nostrils that looked reptilian. The man wore resplendent robes, despite the lack of color due to it's currently stony state.

"Do your job, Sorceror." said one of the men with the glowing wands. Another one of the four, this one without any wand, took out an intricately carved paint brush. He gave it a little shake, and the brush glowed purple.

"I still don't understand this classification of magic you speak about. Here, there is no distinction between wizards, Mages and Sorcerors. We are one and the same." another wand bearer, the one who had uttered "Lumos.", said.

"Need i remind you that we are not of this place. Now shut up and let us work. If this Dark wizard is as good as you say he is, then we will need his services." the fourth man, who had remained silent until then, snapped.

The Sorceror raised the paint brush, and with amazing speed, wrote what seemed like runes, on nothing but air. When he was done, the runes glowed and vanished into the statue. The statue trembled slightly, but otherwise, nothing happened.

"It is futile. We need the objects, as the blood ritual will succumb to nothing else. It is a binding beyond my ability." the Sorceror said.

A beat of silence, then;

"Then we shall get them, and maybe try our chances at that boy while we're at it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his room, that night, Geston dreamt of blond haired ravens and dead thunderbirds.

**_So, you might have noticed the little changes? Please, don't be mad. It's just mmy attempt at creating a fairly original story._**

**_Please review. I'd appreciate it._**

**_Thanks. _**


	4. Chapter four : The problem with spells

**_Alderian Heir_**

**_Season one_**

_Episode four :_ _The problem with spells. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun beat down on the garden, creating new colors as it's rays intermingled with the petals of the flowers and the essence of the fruit trees. He knew for sure that it wasn't Hogwarts. He just knew.

Two figures walked down the flag stoned pathway that cut across the garden in a straight line, sometimes branching at various locations. One was a girl, wearing red aureate robes of the finest cotten, with a face beyond the metaphysical words of poems, and hair the colour of flaxen gold. Piled on her arms were massive tomes of questionable quality, looking about ready to disintegrate at the slightest touch, with a silver pendant placed on it.

The second was a boy that bore a striking resemblance to the girl, despite a few obvious differences. While the girl was blond, the boy was raven haired. The boy's hair had a glossy sheen to it, tumbling in luxurious waves down to his collarbone. The boy was tan, while the girl was pale. This was to be expected. There was no mistaking the similarities between them, however. If the boy had been blond, they could have passed for twins. Alas, it was not so.

He, the presence, looked on as they drew nearer. They both wore grim features, though the girl seemed the brightest of the two.

Soon, they reached an intersection within the maze of neatly trimmed bushes, and traversed through an archway. The presence realized they were speaking.

"It still isn't right, sister." the boy muttered irritably. They were obviously siblings at this point.

"I know, brother. But there is nothing much we can do. They all demand we stay here, and frankly, i wouldn't dream of going anywhere else. With all that has been happening lately, i think this is for the best." the sister said. Soon, they reached a fountain, and they sat down at it's edges. The stone work of the fountain depicted water spewing dragons. The girl dropped her books on a little platform, sighing.

The boy groaned in obvious frustration. "This is no reassurance, Tradina! Belrubin did the right thing when he followed Raynon and Sophia. We should do the same... "

"Ah, so this is really about Sophia, isn't it? I should've known." Tradina, the girl, said as she shook her head. "This infatuation has to stop, brother. It's turning you into a blubbering fool."

The boy froze at her comment. He stared blankly at his sister, his face devoid of emotions. Slowly, but surely, he began trembling with rage so hot and white, the presence could feel it in the air. He stood up on his feet.

"How. Dare. You?" he whispered hoarsely, his irises darkening dangerously. Tradina sighed in exasperation. "You're being insufferable." she admonished.

The boy froze again. Then, with the speed of lightning, he reached for the inner folds of his robes and drew out a long, tapered, elvenwood wand. The handle was obsidian black, and covered in runes. "You're not my sister." he muttered with dead seriousness, his voice the strength of cold steel.

The girl, her face previously in a grim expression, slowly broke into a smile. In a second, the books vanished into thin air. "Impressive. Well, i guess i shouldn't have expected less from a grandson of the great Advan of the east." Tradina, or whoever it was, said dryly as she slowly stood up.

"I do feel inclined to correct you though. This is in fact your sister, as much as it pains me to say it. I'm sure if you thought hard enough, you'd find out what's going on here." This time, she drawled in a sinister tone, picking disinterestedly at her fingers. The boy frowned. A few moments later; "You... You foreshadowed her, didn't you?" he asked in a terrified whisper, as if realizing the implications if he turned out right. A nasty grin sent his hopes plummeting.

"Bingo! So here's what I'm going to do." the girl said, and before he could so much as blink, she snapped her fingers. Instantly, a man appeared in a flash of light and sent the lightning curse at her.

"NOOO!" The boy watched helplessly as the body of his sister fell in a bloodied heap. Tears blurred his eyes, as a malevolent shadow rose from her form, cackling with glee. In the distance, a raven cawed, and a massive explosion rocked the area. The boy fell on his knees. The shadow had blond hair.

And so began the fall of Ebelon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A noise startled Geston from his dream, and he woke up sweating torrents, out of breath. Only when he calmed down did he realize that it had been a raven's caw that had woken him up.

He glanced about the dorm room nervously, and judging from the faint bluish light seeping in, it was dawn already. He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the bed, unknowingly sending his still open book careening down to the floor. Too distracted to care about it, he got off the bed and went to the mirror he'd placed on his trunk, and promptly pulled off his upper clothes, leaving his chest bare. He searched for his tattoo in the reflection.

The raven was glowing, sending tingling feelings all over him.

What was going? Who were those people he'd seen in his dreams?

Now beyond confused, Geston seriously started to worry. Was it a vision? He had no sister, and where the hell was Ebelon. He would surely have heard of it, if it even existed. Or more exciting, was he remembering? But it wasn't possible. The boy in the dream was older than him. It wasn't possible.

With an air of desperation, Geston shoved the memory of the dream to the far recesses of his mind.

By the time the others had awakened, Geston had taken a quick bath and was in the process of wearing his robes and smoothing out his long, silky hair. While the others got ready, he took up his Standard Book of Spells textbook, and continued practicing the pronunciations.

"Okay guys. Are we all ready?" came the voice of Halmore. Geston just managed a grunt of assent, too engrossed in his textbook. The others gave their own response, and a minute later, they were going down to the Common room.

"What are we having first? I can't find my schedule." Neville asked nervously. Jon retrieved a sheet of paper from his robes. "Transfiguration with Ravenclaw." he said. Halmore hooked his arm with Neville's.

"Don't worry Neville. If we stick together, we can hardly get lost, now can we?" he said. Neville nodded gratefully, while Jon and Geston simultaneously rolled their eyes.

The boys met Harry and Ron in the common room, and together, they all barrelled down all the way to the Great Hall, talking uproariously, to the amusement of the onlookers. Geston, unable to bear the noise, simply kept his book in the folds of his robes and chatted with Jon.

The boys took their seat at the Gryffindor table, and a minute later, breakfast appeared. Geston dug in, reading and exchanging glances with Nalia and Sophia at the same time. Sophia and Hermione seemed to be reading from the same book, the title of which he knew not, while Nalia chatted with her friends. When she caught his eye, she raised her wand excitedly for him to see. It was milk white, and 12 inches from what he could see. The handle was somewhat cylindrical too. Geston smiled and her, and gave her a thumbs up. She beamed.

"Moving fast, are we?" a Gryffindor sixth year said from beside him. Rather than reply, Geston gave a shrug and returned to his textbook.

After the food, they all went to their various classes in groups. He, Jon and Neville went together, trying to navigate their way and asking directions when they got lost, mostly from the portraits. Soon, they found the transfiguration class and entered into it, to ffind a cat crouching on the teacher's table. The way the cat stared at them unnerved him. He mentioned it to Jon and Neville.

Jon shrugged; "Who knows? It might be the teacher herself. It is Transfiguration, isn't it?" he reasoned, his hazel eyes looking thoughtful as they stared back at the cat. Neville shook his head. "That's not likely. Maybe it's her familiar?" he suggested. Geston just stared at the cat.

A moment later, when all the students had taken their seats and were busy chatting loud enough to make an annoying drone, the cat jumped off the. table and in a blink of an eye, transformed into Professor McGonagall. The boys were shocked, but Jon seemed to look mildly smug. The whole class descended into silence, and the lesson kicked on from there.

For the first half of the period, they worked on theoretical aspects, often taking notes, and only making use of their wands when the class was almost over, with only fifteen minutes left. As expected, he couldn't even get the pronunciation right, even though he got the wand movement down to a perfect T. Hermione Granger and his cousin, on the other hand, got it right within the first few minutes. Jon and Harry got theirs when the period only had a few minutes left, and Ron and Neville at least got reactions from their matchsticks. Ron's matchstick danced about, while Neville's took on a silver coating, though it looked nothing like a needle. All Geston got was a couple of golden sparks from the tip of his elvenwood wands.

By the end of the class, Geston watched grumpily as Hermione and Sophia presented their perfectly shaped, shiny needles. Harry's own flickered between a matchstick and a needle, while Jon's own ended up blunt. He had nothing to present, and so became slightly jealous.

As they left the class, Geston determined within himself that he would get that spell right by the time the next transfiguration class came along.

The next class was Charms, where they thankfully didn't practice any spells. They wouldn't for a few weeks.

When it was break time, Geston headed straight for the library, Jon trailing behind him.

"Do you think it has something to do with your wand?" Jon asked as he read the book titled Wands and Wand Cores. Geston shook his head as he tried again to transfigure the matchstick, only to fail again. He ground his teeth in frustration. "Are you certain?" Jon tried again. "No." Geston spat out, and on his last try, pointed his wand and muttered the Latin spell, only to end up with the same results.

"Gah!" he exclaimed in frustration and anger, and jabbed his wand at the matchstick on the table, and tried the spell again. Due to his anger, however, he blurted out something entirely different; "nál lögun!"

To their shock and surprise, the matchstick transformed into a sleek, dreadfully sharp and perfectly shaped needle that had a strange gleam to it rather than the normal shine of needles. Geston was gobsmacked.

"You didn't say the spell. You_you said something else. But it worked." Jon said incredulously.

They had no chance to contemplate it, however, as the child hating librarian, who had been drawn by Geston's exclamation, promptly shooed them out of the library.

As they walked through the hallways, Jon kept on blabbing about what had occurred. Geston had a different problem. Varying images of Ravens and Thunderbirds ran through his vision, before an image of the boy in his dream appeared in his mind. The boy had the exact same wand as Geston.

The rest of the day was somewhat uneventful, if one excluded the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. They had it with Hufflepuff, and Geston instantly paired up with Nalia. They chatted happily, with the two sharing their individual experiences since coming to the school. Nalia was a bit sympathetic about his pronunciation problem, and promised to help him with it.

The DADA Professor was lively and good, demonstrating the Disarming spell before the classroom. Geston felt his heart drop to the far reaches of his bowels when the professor asked them to pair up and test the spell on themselves. He ended up with a boy from Ravenclaw, Elmer Radley.

"Very good, Harry Potter. Nice work, Frostwick. I suggest you work more on your aim, Mr Longbottom, though i suspect that may not be the case. See me after class, will you. Excellent precision, Miss Elleswood. Your spell lacks power, though." and so did professor Myrrdin Ealdor go about correcting his students. When it was Geston's turn, however, he failed royally. His wand produced only more sparks when he tried it, and to his embarrassment, he was instantly sent careening backwards as his opponent's Expelliarmus hit him with a vengeance. His wand flew away from his grip and into the waiting hands of Elmer Radley.

"Trying to scare me with fancy sparks. You should know better than that." Elmer said, taking on an air of superiority.

Geston simply retrieved his wand and went back to his seat in self conscious shame. To add to his embarrassment, Myrrdin watched him intently until the end of the class.

After dinner, Geston all but threw himself into the book of spells with iron determination. The other boys sat around him and told tales of the days events from different perspectives.

"Professor Myrrdin said i needed a new wand, something about this one not being suitable for me. He assisted me in writing a letter to my grandma, and promised to escort me to Diagon Alley as soon as grandma's reply comes with a go-ahead." Neville told them, staring sadly at his wand.

"Whose wand wand was it, originally?" Jon asked. Neville looked lost in thought for a moment, before replying; "My father's." Jon nodded, as if confirming something. "There's the reason. A wand chooses the wielder, you knkknow. You can't expect to get the same result from someone else's wand than from yours." Jon explained. Neville nodded, and they all fell silent for a moment.

"I had a nightmare." Harry broke the silence. Everyone's attention, including Geston's, was now directed at the raven haired boy. Geston was especially curious; "What was it about?" he asked.

Harry swallowed for a moment, before speaking up; " It was about a flock of ravens, if four can be called a flock. They were pecking at a statue. A very hideous one at that, somewhere dark and damp, i think. Then it changed to a battle of some sorts. It was horrid, with all these dead bodies everywhere. It was during a thunderstorm too." Harry narrated, but was promptly interrupted by Ron.

"And that's not even the best part." the freckled boy said excitedly. Harry shot him a glare, then continued on with his narration.

"I found two people among the dead bodies. One had my face, or at least an older version of it. The other, a woman, had my eyes. There was this bird too that seemed to melt into the thunderstorms. The bird was really pretty, if you ask me. Also, perhaps the most creepy part, a voice told me to find the center of Hogwarts' courtyard. It said it was important, and that i should do it before the Ides of March. Weird." Harry ended his tale with an imaginary shudder.

Everyone remained silent. Geston on the other hand, was mildly surprised at the mention of ravens and thunderbirds, both of which had been plaguing his dreams recently.

"Yea, weird." Jon said dumbly. Neville's eyes were wide with fright.

That night, Geston dreamt of men casting spells without wands, ravens dancing in the air, and a thunderbird perched on his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Myrrdin entered the rundown building with a ball of light floating over the tip of his wand. It was dark, dusty, and extremely dirty, with debris lying every which way. He hadn't stepped a meter into the place, when he was suddenly surrounded by men in brilliant crimson cloaks.

"Who are you?" one of the men asked. Myrrdin paused for dramatic effect, before uttering in an exaggeratedly grave voice;

"I am Merlin."

**_Hey peeps! As you might have guessed, I'm making an attempt to make this story a little original than necessary, and so i am going to take the liberty of changing a few things in the Harry Potter Universe. It is fanfiction after all, isn't it?_**

**_Also, while my character is powerful in his own right, I'm not going to make him super or god like at all. I've had enough of Gary Stus for once. Basically, he might be a bit more powerful than Jon and the others, but it's gonna take him a long while to get there. So for now, he's on the same level with the rest. Please comment! _**


	5. Chapter five : The Little Things

**_Alderian Heir _**

**_Season one _**

_Episode five : The Little Things **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

The Great Hall was fairly crowded the next morning, and the first years were eager to have a whole line unoccupied by other years to themselves. As the day before, Geston worked on his pronunciations, eating all the while. The first years hadn't all filed in, but a good number of them were present. Jon was sitting beside Geston, without a book for once.

"You know, you both should have been sorted into Ravenclaw. You guys sure are bookworms, aren't yah?" Neville said as he took his seat. Jon, trying to hold back a smirk, gave him a mock offended look. "Hey! You don't see me with any books now, do you?" he jested. Halmore paused in his eating and jabbed his spoon in Geston's general direction. "Unlike some people we know." he retorted. Geston ignored them, though he smiled.

Geston, done with his food, took out his wand and tried to practice a few wand movements. Only, it wasn't his Elvenwood wand, but the Heartwood wand he'd gotten from Ollivander. Halmore noticed. "Hey Geston, trying out your new wand? What about the other one?"

Geston paused in the process of doing an elegant wand sweep motion. "I have a few theories about my spell problem. I'm going to try and check this one out today."

"Really? Think you'll get better?" Neville piped. Geston shrugged. "I hope so. I mean, that's what I'm aiming for, isn't it?"

This said, he made a simple wand motion, and silently whispered; "Lumos."

At first, to his dismay, nothing happened. But then, the tiniest of sparks flickered to life a millimeter over the tip of the ivory wand. It fluctuated for the briefest of moments, before flickering to nothingness. Geston was ecstatic, nonetheless.

"Hey Flaphorn! Gonna try scare somebody else with more of those fancy sparks of yours?" came the voice of Elmer Radley, a voice Geston was beginning to find extremely irritating.

"Back off, Elmer." Harry came to the rescue. Geston heard a few footsteps, and looked up to see Elmer and his circle of prodigious friends around him. All Ravenclaws.

"Why'd you wanna defend the bin brain, Potter. He doesn't even know the simplest of defense spells. Besides, I've got no beef with you. I'll let Malfoy handle that." Elmer said, smiling smugly. Harry, however, wasn't smiling back. "Back. Off." he bit out, gritting his teeth. Elmer stared at him for a second, then huffed. "See you later, Squib."

Everyone within hearing distance gasped in shock at Elmer's swaggering form. The first years all turned to Geston to see his reaction. They were disappointed.

Outside, Geston remained as calm and collected as ever. One the inside, however, his heart was broken, and white hot anger threatened to pour forth. Out of the sight of everyone but Halmore, who looked at him with worry, Geston gripped his wand, his knuckles going paper white.

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

It was Potions class, the first lesson of the day. Geston was walking with his adoptive brother.

"Geez. This place sure gives me the creeps." Halmore said, glancing around at the dark walls of the dungeons.

Neville adjusted his grip on his pewter cauldron. "Not to mention cold too."

The others walked in a comfortable silence. Geston had to admit, it was more than a little cold down here. The fact that the walls were slightly damp and misty didn't help in the slightest. Soon, they spotted a crowd of Slytherins up ahead. "Oh no." Harry moaned. Jon shot him an inquisitive look, but Ron supplied the answer. "Harry's got some sort of rivalry with Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin. And everyone knows how nasty Professor Snape is." he said.

Jon, Halmore, Geston and Neville gave him blank looks. He sighed in exasperation.

"You're gonna tell me you don't know Snape, aren't you?" he deadpanned. His friends gave him meaningful stares. Harry sighed , then smirked mischievously. Geston gulped, and so did the others, excluding Jon, whose eyes were wide as saucers.

"Well, you'll meet him soon enough yourself, won't you?" he proclaimed ominously, then strutted off to class with an air of a person knowledgeable of an in-joke. Only Ron seemed to be a lot less worried, though he still walked nervously.

Geston stared at both boys, wondering who the hell Snape was.

"Who the hell is Professor Snape?" Jon echoed his thoughts word for word. Geston smiled.

This'll be interesting.

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

To Neville, the Potions class was the exact opposite of interesting. It was as different as difference could get. It was a bloody nightmare. While he was grateful that he wasn't on the receiving end of the glare-of-nightmare Snape specially reserved for Harry [For reasons no one could guess, he still had his fair share of glares of doom and flashes of contempt and mild loathing. That was enough to make the greasy git Neville's worst nightmare.

His friends on the other hand, were faring slightly better. Harry's and Ron's tempers were close to hitting the roof, but they both kept it under extremely tight leashes. Halmore was more than a little irritated, and Jon's cheeks were dangerously red. The whole Gryffindor students were close to transfiguring into active volcanoes themselves.

The strange thing, however, was Geston's icy calmness. Despite the taunts and jeers and bullying, he remained calm, aloof, and collected, which just seemed to fuel Snape's nastiness. This was especially bad for Neville, since he was paired with Geston and was openly emotional, making him the victim. Geston's presence paid off, fortunately, as their potion ended up being perfect to a frightening T.

The Slytherins didn't notice Geston, as they were too busy laughing their heads off at the poor Gryffindors. One in particular was the loudest of them all. Draco Malfoy. Neville could see why Harry hated him.

When the time came for the potion to be submitted, Geston offered to go for them, since Neville was obviously too terrified to do so. It didn't end well. On his way to the Professor's table, a troublesome Slytherin stuck out a leg on purpose, making him loose his balance for a split moment. Fortunately, he regained it just in time, but his pride wasn't so lucky. The Slytherins had a nice laugh about it, and Snape did nothing to stop the jeers coming his way.

He submitted the potion stiffly, his face hard as white marble. When he turned around, his eyes swiftly sought out the perpetrator. Draco Malfoy.

Never in Neville's life had he been terrified of a friend. Until now. The darkness that shadowed Geston's face was enough to wipe out Draco's grin, and, impossibly, make the dungeon just a little bit colder.

Neville shrugged it up. He was probably imagining it, wasn't he?

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

Geston threw yet another stone into the lake, watching it sink with a grave look on his face. He'd given up. There was no way he was going to be one of the best students at Hogwarts. It confused him how that fact alone seemed to eat into him, like he wasn't used to being so... so mundane! He wondered if that had anything to do with his lost memories.

After Potions, they'd went for Herbology, where, unlike Potions, he was a complete failure. Neville was his saving grace. The boy had an uncanny knack for plants and anything green, organic and buried in dirt. He envied him that.

Then, after the break that had followed, they had Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Elmer Radley, in a revision of the previous class's lessons, had beaten him yet again. Sure, he'd managed to cast the spell this time. Unfortunately, it was so weak and feeble, it didn't extend past three feet. And then came Transfiguration. He'd managed to turn the matchstick into a needle, but it was far from perfect, unlike the one of yesterday. He was rapidly falling behind in class, and he knew it.

"Oh! Sorry. I had no idea you'd be out here. I'll go now." said a feminine voice. Geston turned around and saw a girl wearing Slytherin robes trying to hurry away from there.

"Hey! I was just about leaving myself , so it's no problem." he said as he rose to his feet. The girl turned around, and Geston was mildly surprised to see that it was the girl he'd tripped when they first arrived. "Wait. I know you, don't i?" he asked. The girl sniffed contemptuously; "You must have a faulty memory if you can't remember. I wouldn't expect less from a Gryffindor, I guess." she drawled, her icy blue eyes not showing the least emotion. Geston smiled.

"It was a mistake, okay. It's not like i did it on purpose. Sorry. Truce?" Geston said, offering a handshake. She blatantly ignored it, but grudgingly replied; "Truce."

When she attempted to walk away, Geston said; "I didn't catch your name last time. I'm Geston Flaphorn."

She turned around again, and Geston spotted a tome held in her grasp. She stared at him through her eyelashes. "Daphne Greengrass." She said, then sauntered off. Geston smirked at her retreating form, but frowned when she'd left. Next class was Charms. Just his luck.

He retrieved his wand, and was about to practice a few spells when he remembered that they hadn't been taught any yet. He smiled, then decided to practice his Defense Against the Dark Arts spell.

"Expelliarmus." he said, and a wobbly flash of red erupted from his Heartwood wand, before fizzling to nothingness. He sighed pathetically, and kept his wand inside the folds of his robes. He was just about to depart when he noticed something. He glanced at the Forbidden forest, searching for it. Then he saw it. There was a man in a black cloak, standing in a copse of trees, facing his direction. Fear creeped up his heart as memories of the incident at Ollivander's came rushing back to him. The man's cloak was unusually stiff, despite the slight wind that blew.

A twig snapped from behind him, and he turned to see Professor Myrrdin Ealdor.

"I thought I'd find you here. Follow me, i need to speak with you." the wizened professor said. Geston's face showed confusion. He turned back to the Forbidden forest, but the cloaked person had vanished.

"Uh, okay." he replied. The old Professor grinned. "Excellent. Try to keep up."

With that, they both left the grounds, Geston trailing behind Myrrdin's long strides.

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

Myrrdin's office was a miniature library. Shelves of dilapidated tomes and scrolls lined the walls, leaving barely an inch of it exposed. The room was circular in shape, and a ceiling-high fireplace graced the space on the left side of the teacher's seat.

"Please, take a seat." the Professor gestured at the visitor's chair. Geston nodded and accepted the offer.

"So, I've been noticing something," the Professor began; "You have a lot of raw talent, Geston. Can i call you Geston?"

Geston nodded slowly, his expression wary. He had an idea of where the conversation was heading.

"Good. So, as i was saying, despite this raw power within you, you are yet unable to cast even the simplest of spells. Your friends are more or less just as talented as you, most especially this Harry Potter, and Jon Frostwick, if i may add. It's easy to see, as they are some of the best students I've taught since coming here. Jon Frostwick came to me this morning, right after my class with your House. He told me how, contrary to what every one thinks, you are quite adept at spellcasting. However, instead of the normal Latin phrases and anagrams used for spell casting, you instead use a language that is entirely different from the norm. Might i ask what this, 'language ' is? Assuming you know of course."

Geston swallowed, nervousness and apprehension etched into his face. Why would Jon do that?

"Uh, it's Icelandic, sir. Mostly anyway." he muttered. The Professor nodded, as if confirming something. "Then i must recommend this. It was given to me by an acquaintance who might have the same problem as you." Myrrdin said, and dipped his hand somewhere beneath his desk. A moment later, he was hoisting up a massive tome with a cover edged with solid gold. On it's front was a curling dragon, with gold Gothic Calligraphy that read; **The Ebelonian Book of spells**.

Geston, transfixed and bewildered, was rendered speechless. He shook his head; "I don't deserve this."

Myrrdin smiled. "We don't have to earn everything, you know. Take it. It's an order." he said, pushing the book forward. Geston found himself smiling. He took it, his small fingers brushing the cover almost reverently. "You can compare it with your Standard Book of Spells and see the ones you need. I believe that is all, for now."

Geston nodded, and promptly exited the office.

There was a flash of light, and a man wearing a heavy red cloak appeared. "Is it done?"

Myrrdin nodded. "It is."

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_****_~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

The journey to the library, after the lessons of the day, was interrupted. Jon and the others noticed his excitement, and followed him.

"What's got you all worked up. Christmas came early?" Ron asked him. Halmore walked up to Geston, who was carrying the tome Professor Myrrdin gave him, and smiling goofily at the same time. "You look a lot like Hermione there. Doesn't he, Neville?"

Neville shrugged uncertainly. "I guess. What's with the books though? Exams aren't until next year." he said. Geston shrugged, still trotting happily. Then, as if on cue, Harry realized something; "You're going to the library, aren't you?"

Geston nodded in confirmation. Halmore's, Harry's and Ron's faces fell at the exact same time. Halmore frowned; "Oh come on! You spend every free time in that place. Might as well live there if you ask me." he grumbled. Jon rounded on him; "Hey! It's not like there's something wrong with going to the library, you know. If you aren't coming, might as well spit it out. Same goes for all of you." he said. Halmore stared for a moment, then huffed in indignation and turned around. A second later, Ron followed him. Harry gave Jon and Geston an apologetic look, before joining his friends.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Geston said as he, Jon and Neville sat around a table in the library. "They were just being immature."

Jon scowled. "Lazy is more like it." he muttered.

"So, you haven't answered my question. What's with the book?" Neville asked, trying to change the subject. He succeeded. "The answers to my problem." Geston answered, grinning widely. Jon leaned forward to see the title. "The Ebelonian..."

Geston went stiff with shock as Jon's words registered. Ebelonian... Ebelon.

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

Five men in long black cloaks appeared at the edges of Hogwarts school grounds. "Now!" the one in the middle spoke up. Instantly, one of the men transformed into a pitch black cat and ran full speed across the school grounds, heading towards the school itself. A second one changed into an eagle and took flight. Before a third could join the others, two more men, these ones wearing red robes, apparated with a resounding Crack!

One of the red ones drew his wand, and the others followed. "Óhreyfanleg." one of the ones in red exclaimed. A jet of purple light erupted from his wand, and struck one of the blacks, freezing him in place. A battle broke out, and flashes of light flew from side to side.

When two of the remaining three blacks were defeated, the last gave a flick of his wand, and he vanished in a flash of white.

The ones in red gathered around the two fallen blacks. "They have infiltrated the school. Contact merlin. The boy must be protected at all cost." the leader said. The others nodded, and promptly vanished in flashes of light. The leader, still watching the fallen enemy, one of which was dead and the other petrified, sighed. He drew back his hood, revealing himself as Belrubin Wikbur, and retrieved his wand, which was 12 inches long Elvenwood. He pointed his wand at the petrified one, and muttered beneath his breath; "Hverfa."

Slowly, the petrified one dissolved into nothingness.

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

The rest of the the first week passed away unnoticed. Geston, too excited by the prospect of finally learning spells, had thrown away his initial shock at first discovering the title. He promised to ask Professor Myrrdin about it someday, but that day wasn't coming anytime soon. He encountered Daphne Greengrass at the library a few times, and despite his best efforts, she remained mostly cold to his advancements of friendship. Myrrdin explained his situation to the other teachers, and so he was allowed to use other languages for his spell, but in practical works only. Theoretically, he was still mandated to use the correct names of the spells and incantations.

On the first Saturday of the term, during the early mornings, Geston was staring out the window, admiring the morning clouds, when Halmore barged in, breathing heavily. Geston turned from the window to face his adoptive brother. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's Elmer. He's got Jon and Neville cornered. He also has my wand." Halmore breathed out in a rush. Immediately, Geston retrieved his Heartwood wand and dashed out of the Gryffindor tower, Halmore in the lead. They soon reached a deserted corridor somewhere along the way to the Quidditch field. There, Jon and Neville were cornered by a gang of glass wearing boys, Elmer Radley leading them. Jon stood in front of a red faced Neville, with his wand pointed at the Ravenclaw boys.

"I'm warning you. Back off." Jon threatened. His wand was 12 inches long Acacia, mahogany red, with a tiny crystal mounted on it's tip and a thumb-sized emerald gem attached to the butt.

Elmer sneered at him, himself holding a 13 inches long Beech wood wand that was slightly springy. "Or what? We're alone here, Frostwick, incase you didn't notice. No one's gonna help you here." he taunted.

Geston, seething with fury, walked briskly towards the group and shoved himself between Elmer and Jon. "Leave them alone, Elmer. I don't tolerate insufferable Know-it-alls assaulting my friends." he growled. Taken aback by the sudden intrusion, Elmer quickly rebounded. "What are you gonna do about it? Scare us off with your pathetic light shows?"

At that, most of Elmer's friends burst out laughing. Geston scowled dangerously, then whispered into Jon's ears; "Get Halmore's wand, I'll handle him." Jon nodded. Geston returned his attention to the Ravenclaws; "You really think so? Well I'll show you what a light show really is." he said, then raised his wand and yelled out a curse:

"Árás!"

At first nothing happened. But then, a surge of power rippled through Geston's arm and erupted in a beam of red light that slammed into Elmer and threw him backwards. The Ravenclaws were shocked to see Elmer sailing through the air. Jon used this distraction to his advantage by using a disarming spell to retrieve Halmore's wand. The spell Geston cast left him dizzy and weak in the knees, and when he saw Elmer rising back up, he realized that the spell wasn't as powerful as it was supposed to be. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to exactly cast it effectively yet.

Barely conscious, Geston managed to scramble out of the hallway with his friends in tow before the Ravenclaws could retaliate. Soon, however, Geston tripped over something and fell face-first to the floor. He felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, and his eyes drifted close. The last thing he saw, was a bloodied gauntlet.

**_So that's pretty much it for Episode five. I hope i evened out the ending there. Didn't wanna end up making him too powerful looking. Enjoy! _**


	6. Chapter six : The shadows in the hallway

**_Alderian Heir_**

**_Season one_**

_Episode Six : The shadows in the hallways_

**_~~~~~~~~~line break ~~~~~~~~~~~_**

Geston groaned in pain. His head was pounding mercilessly, and he could hear his blood roaring in his ears. His eyes were hard to open at first, as they seemed to have been glued together. When he did open them, his sight was slightly misty and a tad impaired.

"Is he alright?" a soft voice, one he recognized but couldn't remember, said from a corner. Where was he? The surface he was lying on felt hard, and a mite cold too. Huh?

"He hasn't woken up yet. I still insist we take him to the infirmary." another voice, a male this time, said. It was Halmore. Geston stirred. Why would he have to go to the infirmary? Was he ill? He couldn't remember being ill.

His vision cleared a bit more, and he saw the ceiling of a classroom above him.

"Fine! But we wait just a minute more, and if he's not awake by then, we'll take him to the infirmary." a voice that he remembered belonged to Jon said in exasperation. A huff that Geston knew belonged to Sophia resounded across the classroom. "I think we can work with that." Harry said. Geston waited a few heartbeats for them to say something more. His friends were obviously here.

When nothing happened, he finally spoke up; "What am I doing in an abandoned classroom?"

A second. Two seconds. Then they all spoke at once.

"Is that...?"

"I thought I heard..."

"What the..."

"You're awake!"

"I didn't realize, thanks for bringing it to my attention." Geston said sarcastically. Sophia, being the one who made the comment, flinched a little. Geston sat up from where he lay on the ground, and confirmed that they were currently in an unused classroom somewhere in the school. The chairs and desks were arranged haphazardly, though there was an exception in the area he was. The furniture seemed to be arranged in what one could vaguely call a circle around him, with the path to the entrance open. His friends, along with Hermione who he hadn't actually spoken to yet, stood by the entrance of the classroom. Halmore, Jon and Nalia wore worriedworried expressions, Hermione and Sophia wore the kind of expression that signalled the start of a life sucking lecture, while the rest generally looked guilty, Neville most of all.

"How are you feeling?" Nalia asked. Geston cocked an eyebrow; "I feel okay, I guess. What happened though? Last thing I remember, we were running from Elmer and his gang." Geston said. He was on his feet moments later, feeling a lot subdued physically. Jon provided the answer; "You passed out, right as we were running. I think you hit your head on something."

Geston seemed confused at that for a moment, but then he felt a shaft of pain pierce through his head. He winced and felt the back of his head, where his fingers discovered a bump steadily growing. "I think you're right." he conceded.

He stood straight, dusting off his clothes as he did. Hermione spoke up; "Jon says you used an offensive spell on Elmer. Apart from the Disarming spell, I don't exactly remember being taught any yet," she sounded excited, and Geston could practically taste the next question before she could even voice it; "What spell did you use?"

Geston sighed. -Here we go- he thought, but before he could reply, Jon beat him to the punch; "He's been studying. Now tell us, what really happened there? We know you tripped and all, but -"

Geston interrupted him; "Wait, tripped? On what?" he asked, suddenly curious. Jon, Neville and Halmore glanced at each other. Nalia, Sophia and Harry noticed the exchange. Geston noticed it too, and he frowned. -What're they hiding?- he wondered.

Jon nodded unobtrusively, and Halmore retrieved an object from beneath the folds of his cloak. Geston's eyes widened. Why didn't he notice the bulge sooner?

"Is that a gauntlet?" Harry asked. The others looked slightly pale. Hermione nodded.

"It's stained with blood too." Jon said gravely. At that, they all gasped, with the exclusion of Neville, Jon and Halmore. Their faces were paper white. Geston stepped a little bit closer to take a good look at it. It was made of a metal that had a silvery disposition. It gleamed as something polished very often, and it had intricate designs on it, with runes ascribed here and there. On the hand was an open oval space, the twisted edges suggesting that something had been ripped out of the space. The strangest thing was that the gauntlet seemed to pulse with magical energy. Geston could feel the subtle thrum in the air, barely anything overtly strong. He wondered if the others could feel it too. There was a sharp intake of breath from someone in the group, though Geston paid it no mind. His attention was on the gauntlet.

"I-I remember that thing." said Harry, whose voice had rasped down to a croaky whisper. Everyone's head whipped at his direction, expressions ranging from surprise, to curiosity. Harry, looking subdued for some reason, continued; "In a dream. But there was a ruby right here," he pointed at the ripped open space. He swallowed heavily.; "I don't really remember much, but I remember clearly that two men were duelling for it. One-One of them was the guy... we saw at Ollivander's."

**_~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~_**

Belrubin panted as blood ran down his face. It wasn't his blood. It was another's. The castle was under siege, and he was only a fresh graduate. He hadn't even apprenticed under a High Wizard yet. And yet here he was, fighting for the lives of others, as well as his. It was his duty, his responsibility. He would gladly die for his people.

The battle was gruesome, merciless, devouring lives like a pissed off Kraken on a really bad day. Not far from him, a broadsword sliced through a soldier's neck, sending the body tumbling down the outer rampart. Arrows flew every bit as much as drops of spilt blood. Everyone fought against the opposing side, neither showing mercy. Deadly focus and unfeeling ruthlessness.

Sadness engulfed his countenance. Ebelon, the place where his family was at, was currently under siege, possibly by the magicaes of Larvaden, definitely accompanied by the enemy soldiers. He couldn't do anything to help them now. They were thousands of miles apart. He was at Preghold, home of the king, fighting to protect their kingdom from the malevolence of King Elric of Larvaden.

In the air, hundreds of wyverns faced the dragonknights of his kingdom in a fierce battle of flames, magic and maneuvers. Dragons spat out their breath affiliations mid-flight, dancing dangerously as the sun reflected their scales, casting it in awe-inspiring radiance. The wyverns spat weak balefires, though their sheer numbers more than made up for their competence. The dragons were barely fifteen in number, and as such, relied on skills alone. It was at least giving the wyverns a run for their money.

Belrubin twirled his wand in his sweat-drenched fingers, looking around for more targets. At the middle of the battle, somewhere along the massive barbican, the battle's best hope fought against the leader of The Sons, some of the most powerful magicaes in the continent. Belrubin distractedly noticed that the immediate area around them was destroyed beyond repair. Both of them were Mages, the highest in the factions of magic wielders. Belrubin himself was a wizard, and he was glad for it.

Suddenly, a flash of ghostly green came at him. He sidestepped it, a difficult feat considering the cramped space of the rampart he was on. He righted himself instantly, and came face to face with his mortal enemy. His uncle, a member of The Sons too.

"How nice to meet you here, Rubin. Too bad you aren't going to be alive for much longer. I was hoping for a little chat. Guess we'll have to wait till we get to the abyss, haven't we?" came the snarky voice of Armon, his uncle and a priest of incredible powers.

Belrubin sneered at the cloaked man, the expression absolutely horrendous on his blood-smeared face. "Armon. I guess the gods have finally taken notice of my pleas. Now I'll get to kill you."

There was a pause, in which the clash of steel, roars of men and beast alike and cries of pain and agony echoed in the background. Armon sneered, his black hair seeming to stand on end. Green mists rose around Armon's poised form, forming phantom shapes and contortions. Ghostly cries that seemed to echo from a far off dimension filled Belrubin's ears, filling his heart with a terrified chill.

"Let's us see if what you claim has any credibility." Armon said, his voice hollow and unearthly. Belrubin narrowed his eyes as he brandished his wand; "Let's."

A second later, Armon chanelled his soul manipulating abilities and fired a beam of soul magic at Belrubin.

_"ÍS STORMUR!"_ Belrubin yelled with a lightning fast flick of his wand. A flash of blue light, and an eruption of ice cold blue mists, and the duel began.

Later, with Armon dead and Belrubin on the brink of death, a tear rolled down Rubin's cheeks. Their duel had utterly destroyed a section of the rampart, and Rubin was lying on the blood-drenched ground below, half buried in massive boulders, his bones crushed to paste. He closed his eyes, wishing for death to free him from the agonizing pain that was life itself.

Eternal darkness robbed him from his world, only for him to end up in another.

Doing the exact same thing. Protecting others.

**_~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~_**

The next month passed in relative peace. They went for the broom lessons, a class Geston found himself sorely lacking, and came out of it fairly happy. He got his shot at embarrassing Draco when he tried to bully Neville, while Harry and Jon ended up winning places in Gryffindor's Quidditch team.

The friends agreed to keep the gauntlet a secret. A drawing of lots later, Neville ended up being the one to keep it in his trunk. Geston tried to discreetly research the gauntlet, but when he found not the slightest clue a fortnight later, he gave up. Otherwise, school went on without a hitch.

Soon, it was time for the first match of the school year. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin, and he was compelled to attend, even though he'd honestly rather not. He still had to support his friends in the team, as they gleefully reminded him.

On the morning of the match, around 4 o'clock, Geston was fully dressed and prepared. He still had some last minute assignments to attend to, so he delved into his scroll, quill and ink-well, writing at a luxurious pace since he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Thirty minutes after he'd started his potions essay on the twelve uses if Dragonblood, he was already concluding it, making sure to add more than a little bit of grammatical and calligraphic flourish in the essay's last lines.

Signing his name in a wavy font signature at the bottom of the write-up, Geston replaced the tip of his quill on the Ink-well and admired his work for a moment. He had to admit, the write-up would definitely rival that of Hermione and his adoptive cousin, and maybe even threaten the golden seat status Daphne Greengrass currently held in the theoretical aspect of Potions class.

That done, he stood up and went to the mirror on his trunk. He snapped up a red rubber band from his bed and tied his black hair into a ponytail, as he'd taken to doing recently. He then moved across the circular room and came to the largest window. He leaned on it, and stared down at the school grounds. Everywhere was washed in a faint silvery blue that was the color of twilight. The slight fog was thinning rapidly, making him see as far as the boundaries of the Forbidden forest.

As he admired the beauty of the scene below him, a shadow crossed the edges of his line of vision. He ignored it, sighing contentedly. But then he noticed it again. He snapped his head towards the direction, and he saw it. He scowled.

Fleeting shadows, more than one, danced from beyond the fog. The white mists hid the source of the shadows well, but it couldn't hide the flashes of light that danced along with the shadows.

Straining his hearing as far as he could, he made out faint swishes. It stood out from the slight whisper of the morning breeze.

Spells.

Who could be casting spells at this ungodly hour? In the Forbidden forest nonetheless.

The shadows made leaps, twirls and bounds, sometimes melting into the shadows cast by the silvery trees. Red, blue, purple, white, colors of all manners and derivations. He thought he saw a burst of fire once, but that couldn't be true, since he was too high up to discern the curses and hexes the shadows were definitely exchanging.

Soon, a figure garbed in a heavy, flowing cloak sped out of the fog. The cloak swished along the grass, billowing slightly as the figure bounded in leaps and nigh jumps. Due to the light, he couldn't make out the exact color of the cloak, but he noticed it seemed a mite shabby. Another figure sped out of the fog, and a wispy beam of purple left the second and raced for the first.

The first turned around just in time to capture the purple beam and redirect it towards a boulder that promptly split in perfect halves. The first fired a beam of red, and the second created a blue hued transparent shield that blocked the spell. Colors and flashes flew, and curses sought out their targets in single-minded ruthlessness. Patches of earth and grass shot up from the force of redirected spells, and fire occasionally ravaged a little of the grasses before dying out. Not too soon, the first shot out a volley of spells in rapid succession, with such speed that the light created from the spells seemed to fuse into a single line of a multicolored light pillar. The second tried to dodge as best as he could, but they became too much, and they eventually got him.

His robes caught fire, a single chain of silvery metal appeared from thin air and bound him tightly, and a force of magic that was certainly a result of The Banishing charm sent him flying backwards till he disappeared once again into the fog. At that, the second spun on his heels, his robes billowing, and vanished into the school. Not before Geston caught a flash of silvery hair.

Geston watched on with wide eyes, even after the duel had long ago ended.

Who were those people?

**_~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~_**

Harry had never felt so nervous in his life. He was literally shaking. What if he failed the team? What if he disappointed his friends? He shook his head wildly at the thought. No! He could not afford to think that way. He desperately needed to concentrate for this.

Harry sat on his bed, polishing his Nimbus Two Thousand, a gift from Professor McGonagall, as he waited patiently for Ron to get ready. Getting the Seeker position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team had come as a pleasant surprise to him. So had his apparent talent with a broomstick. Being the youngest Seeker in close to a century had added to the fame he already had. His parents, according to all accounts, had died as warheroes, having sacrificed their lives for the death and defeat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. While it didn't make him special in anyway, people could not help but marvel at the fact that

he was Harry Potter, the son of the Golden couple James and Lily Potter. Inheriting his father's talent at Quidditch proved in everyone's mind that he was indeed the son of his parents. He wasn't sure that that proved anything.

His impatience getting the better of him, he decided to leave early so he could be among the first to arrive at the Quidditch field. He took his wand with him, keeping it somewhere within his Quidditch robes. He was slightly paranoid, and so wanted to refrain from being naive. This was a match against Slytherin. Anything could happen. No-one underestimated the snakes.

Cutting across a sharp corner with the Nimbus slung over his shoulder, Harry walked into a dark hallway. He knew the way to the Quidditch field, of course, but he'd never gone alone. He'd always been with either Ron, Hermione or her friend Sophia. Or better yet, the whole gang.

As he traversed the hallway, a sudden cold feeling creeped up his spine. He paused, the hair on his neck standing on end. Someone was watching him. Call it a sixth sense or whatever, but he knew he was being watched. He looked at his grim surroundings for a few seconds. When he found nothing, he hurried out of the hallway, sending nervous glances over his shoulder. Once, in a nervous fit, he thought he imagined seeing a pair of moving shadows. He dismissed it.

Later, sometime around 7 o'clock, the match started. The students poured in waves Into the stands, some of them holding umbrellas with them. When Harry saw the umbrellas, he was confused, until Fred Weasley pointed to the sky. Clouds, thick grey ones, covered every inch of it. The threat of heavy rain was a real one.

As Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team addressed his subordinates, Harry's eyes roamed across the field. He saw the Professors already seated and Madam Hooch already poised. When his eyes met that of Hermione's, he saw her disapproving expression. She folded her arms and pouted, the expression hilarious considering her unusually large front teeth. He winced and blushed, promptly breaking eye contact.

Harry met Hermione through Halmore and Geston. The pair. had gone to the library to pay their Ravenclaw cousin, Sophia, a visit, and Harry had tagged along. He and Hermione hadn't started out as the ideal example of friendship, due to her bossy, Know-it-all character. Given time, however, they'd become close. Almost as close as he was with Ron. They just had a fight two days ago, with Hermione disapproving of his spot on the Quidditch team. It was a well known fact that Seekers tended to be the main target of the vicious bludgers. He'd managed to convince her, but that didn't mean she'd have to be happy about it.

The match started soon after, and Harry leapt into the air on his broom. He started the search for the snitch almost immediately, circling around in the air above the rest to get a better vantage point. By the time he found the snitch hiding around the floor beneath the goal hoops, the score was 70 - 50, with Slytherin in the lead. He had to win this for his team. Bracing himself, he dived for the snitch at full speed. When he was close to the ground floor, he stretched his hands. His fingers brushed the metal covering of the snitch, but the pesky little things slipped away at the last second. He exited the dive with a twirling loop, chasing after the fluttering golden object.

Not too soon, he noticed the Slytherin Seeker tailing him. He maximised his speed, leaving the Seeker in the dust. Rapidly accelerating, he stretched his hands again, and in a last ditch effort, leapt an inch off his broom and closed his fingers around the protesting snitch. Taking hold of his broom again, he did an ascending twirl in the air and raised his hand in triumph. The crowd broke out into a savage roar, and Harry could do nothing but grin widely. He hadn't failed them after all.

At that moment, the cloud darkened and lightning washed over the field, followed closely by the crack of thunder. Half an hour later, when the students, most of them anyway, had entered into the platform leading out to the field, rain poured down in massive torrents. The students were inside already, chattering excitedly and congratulating Oliver, who looked close to tears, when all hell broke loose. At first, Harry heard nothing but the screaming of the students. He had no idea what was going on, being sandwiched between the crowd as he was. Soon, he caught sight of spells flying about, Professors waving their wands at what resembled moving shadows. As an older student shoved him away in his to escape from the line of fire, he heard Halmore's voice calling out to him.

"Harry! It's Geston! Quick, Geston's outside! Geston is still outside!"

That was the last thing he heard, before a flash of red impacted him, and he got swallowed in thick darkness. He blacked out.

**_My longest chapter as of yet. Hope you guys like it. I noticed that most of the story seemed to be coming from Geston's POV, and since the story essentially involves them as a group, and not only an individual, i couldn't have that. Harry plays an important role in the next sequence of events, so he seemed like the next best choice to me. Rest assured, there will be lots of new POVs in the next chapter . Enjoy! _**


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